University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

The interior of a prison.
Hesperus alone.
Hesp.
Hark! Time's old iron voice already counts
The steps unto the after-world, o'er which
Sleep in her arms hath carried man to-night;
And all it wakes to business or to joy,
Save one; and, mingled with its solemn tone,
I heard the grating gates of hell expand—
Oh! house of agony,
I feel thy scorching flames already near.
Where shall I 'scape? Is there no hiding place?
Spirit, that guidest the sun, look round this ball,
And through the windows of deep ocean's vault;
Is there no nook just big enough for me?
Or, when I'm dead, can I not pass my soul
For common air, and shroud me in some cloud?
But then the earth will moulder, clouds evanish;
So Hell, I must unto thee, darksome vale;
For dared I hope, I could not wish, Elysium:
There should I meet the frowns of Floribel;
My father would be there:—black gulph of anguish,
Thou art far better than such paradise.
Why did they teach me there is such a place?
The pang of misery is there; I know
There is a land of bliss, and am not in it;
This, this outstings your lashes, torturers;
He has no lack of punishment who feels it. Enter Jailor.

Oh! speak not for a moment, speak not, sir,
I know thine errand well; so tell it not.
But let me shut mine eyes, and think a little
That I am what I was. Ay, there he sits,
My good old sire, with his large eye of love.
How well it smiles upon that lovely maid,
A beauteous one, indeed; and yet, they say,
She died most cruelly. Oh! tell me something,
Drive out these dreams.

Jail.
Prisoner, prepare for death.

[Exit.
Hesp.
Death! Death! What's death? I cannot think.
Enter Lenora.
Who art thou?

Len.
Ha! knowest thou not the wretch thou'st made Lenora?
Alone I've found thee, villain.

Hesp.
Not alone;
Oh! not alone: the world hath burst its ribs,
And let out all the demons in the pit;
Thick; thick they throng: I cannot breathe for them;
The hounds of Lucifer are feeding on me,
Yet I endure; Remorse and Conscience too,
Stirring the dying embers of my heart,
Which Passion hath burnt out, like midnight gossips
Sit idly chattering of the injured dead;
But thou'rt the last and worst; I hoped to hide
Beneath the turf from thee.

Len.
Thou shalt not leave me; stand and hear my curse,—
Oh such a curse! I learned it from a voice
That wandered 'mid the damned: it burns my tongue,
Listen, wretch, listen;
Thus, thus I curse thee . . . . . . . No I do revoke it,
My pardon be upon you for your deeds;
Though thou didst stab me through my Floribel,
I think thou once didst love her; didst thou not?

Hesp.
With my whole soul, as now I worship her.

Len.
Alas! say no; I wish thou'dst break my heart;
Now, pr'ythee do; I'll bless thee for't again.

Hesp.
What! is it stubborn yet? Then thou canst teach me
How to bear misery—but I need it not,
They've dug my grave.

Len.
But, while you still are living,
What say you to some frolic merriment?
There are two grassy mounds beside the church,
My husband and my daughter; let us go
And sit beside them, and learn silence there;
Even with such guests we'll hold our revelry
O'er bitter recollections: there's no anguish,
No fear, no sorrow, no calamity,
In the deathful catalogue of human pains,
But we will jest upon't, and laugh and sing:
Let pitiful wretches whine for consolation,
Thank heaven we despair.

Enter Guards.
Hesp.
See you these men?
They bid me to a strange solemnity.

Len.
Must thou be gone?

Hesp.
I must, alas! for ever.
Live and be blessed, mother of Floribel.

[Exit with Guards.
Len.
Farewell; farewell. They drag him to the scaffold,
My son, the husband of my Floribel:
They shall not slaughter him upon the block,
And to the cursing multitude hold up
The blackened features which she loved; they shall not.

[Exit.